


Until Death Do Us Part

by Osloan02



Category: Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angels, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Author does not agree with any homophobia, Because this is an alternate universe with a completely different history, Betrayal, Biblical Scripture References (Abrahamic Religions), Blood Magic, Blood and Gore, Character Death, Coming Out, Demons, Dragons, Elemental Magic, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Fluff and Angst, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I have every sexuality in here that I know of, I haven't decided yet, I promise, I won't go six months without posting again, Letters, M/M, Magic, Major Character Injury, Medieval Medicine, Minor Character Death, Non-Human Humanoid Society, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Homophobia, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Platonic Soulmates, Queerplatonic Relationships, Religion, Sarcasm, The characters might not be in this book, You didn't hear that from me, a lot of people die, ace author so the sexy stuff might be weird, and doing homework, and every race is too, and people can be awful, author is in college so irregular posting schedule, bc they're plot relevant, but everyone is represented here, but like, but this is loosely based in Medieval times, don't let the biblical references scare you, except the Chosen One is the Bad Guy the entire time, however, it's kind of funny, literally want to spoil the entire story, low-key kind of a Chosen One story, none of that underage nastiness, ok so I forgot something about the biblical references after 17 tags, one will be m/m, or racism, or sexism, probably spoiling the entire plot with these bad boys but it's fine, so therefore I have to have awful people, the first 10-16 chapters are kind of boring but it gets better, the other person's gender is irrelevant to the plot lol, the other will be wlw or m/f, the pair MEETS underage but has sex as adults, there is some "biblical history" but still not the bible, there will be like two sex scenes though, we love diversity in this house
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:01:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22236772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Osloan02/pseuds/Osloan02
Summary: Best friends Drakka and Pallain are forced apart when Pallain goes to apprentice with his uncle. Herbmistress-in-training Drakka remains behind to finish her studies. The two exchange letters until tragedy strikes, and both fear the other is dead. In a tale of adventure and friendship, what will happen to a pair of idiots who hold fate in their hands?Hold onto your horses, folks, this is going to be a wild ride.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first story and I don't have a beta. If you're interested in being a beta, let me know. If you see any massive grammatical errors, let me know. This is a first draft, so if you see any plot holes... well, you get my point.

The sun slowly slipped behind the horizon, a darkening shadow creeping over the land.

A teenage girl handed the boy beside her a piece of fruit, scowling at the wolves beneath them. "This was a horrible idea. 'Let's go sit in a tree and watch the sunset, Drakka, there's no way that can go wrong, not with the wolves going hungry because all the sheep died.'" The girl looked down and scowled. "Go away, I taste like uneducated dirt!" The boy beside her almost fell over, he was laughing so hard.

The wolves started baying.

The boy jumped, then snickered at his own actions. "Gee, Drakka, whose brilliant idea was it to bring a roast chicken with us?"

The girl lifted her chin and said haughtily, "Obviously yours, I would never suggest something so dumb."

The boy made a face of disbelief. "Says the girl who brought the chicken!"

All that remains of the chicken were a couple of bones. 

Drakka scoffed. "Of course not. I am a genius. Besides, you were the one who threw it down to them."

One of the wolves yipped excitedly.

The boy splayed his palms open in a gesture of innocence. "I thought they'd be full and go away." 

Drakka reached up and pulled an over-ripe and possibly-rotting nut off the tree. "Shut up, Pallain, and throw a nut."

The nuts, to the surprise of absolutely no one but the two idiots, did nothing but aggravate the wolves.

The pair stared down at the assembled wolves, neither admitting that they could possibly be afraid. "Well, O Herbmistress Supreme, do we have an escape plan?"

Drakka's gaze fixated upon the pack, the moon making her irises almost white. "Start screaming."

Pallain nodded. "Wonderful plan, I'll get right to it."

Both teenagers started screaming, loud and barbaric, which did cause the wolves to calm down for a moment. Then they began howling and growling even more.

Pallain leaned back against the trunk of the tree. "So that didn't work."

Drakka's fingers tapped a rhythm on the bark. "I have ears, Pal."

They both sat there in relative silence before Pallain's face lit up and he excitedly turned to Drakka. "I have an idea."

"Pal, have you been thinking? Be careful, you'll hurt yourself."

Pallain frowned. "I hate you."

Drakka gasped in mock offense before playfully punching her friend on the shoulder. "Pallain! You adore me and you know it."

Pallain swayed a bit in the tree. "Careful, I don't want to be eaten tonight!"

Drakka smirked mischievously. "What about tomorrow night?"

Pallain pursed his lips, trying to look thoughtful. "I dunno, it's not tomorrow night yet."

One of the wolves howled particularly loud.

"Oh, shut up, you overgrown mutt!" Drakka launched another nut. The nut hit the wolf in the eye, causing the thing to yelp in pain. 

"At least they're not-"

"Pal, if you finish that statement, I'm shoving you out of this tree."

"-Giant wolves."

There a moment of total silence, then a deep, rumbling howl echoed from the other side of the forest.

Drakka slowly turned her head to look at her best friend. "Pallain?"

Pallain swallowed, more afraid of her than the wolves. "Yes, my dearest love?"

Drakka's eyes narrowed. "If we survive tonight, I'm going to kill you."

Pallain resigned himself to his fate. "Of course, darling, I would expect nothing less."

Drakka climbed higher into the tree, Pallain hot on her heels after he chucked what remained of the food as far as he could. "That was the first good idea you've had all night!"

Pallain bared his teeth. "Oh, fuck off! If we're going to die, I'm not doing it fighting with my best friend!"

"Dammit, Pal, now is not the time to make me cry!" 

Another howl echoed through the forest, a different howl echoing it, then another, and another. "There's a pack, Drakka, there's a pack, we're going to die!"

"Yeah, probably, sit down, you're swaying the tree."

The pair of idiots could see the wolves now, the moonlight catching of white fangs and glittering eyes. "Drakka… if we don't make it… I just want to say-"

Drakka put her hand over Pallan's mouth, staring intently down at the giant wolves, now prowling around the base of the tree, sniffing interestedly. One of the wolves kept looking into the woods, ears flicking forward then back as it occasionally growled. Drakka moved her hand down from Pallain's mouth to his hand, squeezing it and trying not to shake.

The guard wolf stood up, hackles raising as it growled at what appeared to be nothing. The other wolves turned their attention away from the tree and joined the other wolf.

A fire blazed to life between two of the trees, revealing a cloaked person waving a flame-tipped staff. "Get back! Go on, get! You will find no food here! Get!" The guard wolf snarled and approached the cloaked figure. "Oh, no, you don't. I'm old and tough, you'll get nothing from me, back down, wolfie."

The wolf, obviously, didn't listen, inching closer, the rest of the pack following. The person spun their staff and whacked the wolf in the head with it, causing it to whine and slink back. None of the rest of them moved. The person drew something from a pouch on their side and threw it, the wolves running from it, disappearing in a chorus of yips and barks.

"You fool kids can come down now, since I saved your sorry asses."

Drakka and Pallain clambered down from the tree, running to the person. "Altha! Thank Raphael that you're-"

Altha smacked Drakka on the back of the head with the staff. "What in the Hell were you thinking? You could have died!"

Pallain attempted to come to Drakka's defense. "We just wanted to watch the sunset-"

Altha whirled on Pallain, green eyes snapping with the gold power Herbmistresses obtain. "Oh, you just wanted to watch the sunset? In the middle of the woods after a lean year? Right before winter when every breathing thing is eating everything it can?"

"Altha, please, we just thought it would be fun to have one last meal, just the two of us before Pal goes off to his Uncle's."

Altha's face softened then, the anger fading away at Drakka's desperate pleading. "I do not fault you for that, but you took an unnecessary risk. However, I will let it go, just this once since he is leaving."

Pallain's fingers wrapped themselves around Drakka's, the boy putting a fist over his heart and nodding his head. "Thank you." 

Altha sniffed. "Don't mention it to anyone. I have a reputation to maintain." A small stone house peeked out of a sudden hill, a lantern glowing through the window. Altha opened the door, the teenagers going in, brushing the ends of drying plants out of the way, Pallain having to duck through the entry room due to his height.

"What's that smell?" Pallain asked, wrinkling his nose.

Drakka and Altha shared a look. "It's valerian," Drakka drawled, "We were running low and needed more before the snows came. Is your poor sensitive nose bothered by the mean wittle roots?"

Pallain pursed his lips and crouched through the smallest part of the room before assisting both Drakka and Altha up the steps. "I don't appreciate that tone," the boy said primly, winking as Drakka pouted at him.

"Well, I don't appreciate you questioning my work."

"Either fuck each other or fuck off, I don't want to witness your bickering," Altha said drily, placing her staff above the doorway. "Pallain, since you decided to be a buffoon, you can help Drakka as she grinds the valerian root."

"Aw, Altha, come on, you know that makes me queasy."

"Sit down, Pallain, or you can explain to your mother what happened."

Pallain plopped himself down and picked up a mortar and pestle. "Fine."

Drakka and Pallain ground the roots in silence. "I'm sorry I talked you into doing that with me," Drakka said, not looking up from the root she was grinding. "I just- You're leaving and I wanted one last Drakka-and-Pallain-"

"You have nothing to apologize for, Drakka. That was fun." The blonde-haired boy grinned. "Besides, when my apprenticeship is over, I'll come back here and kidnap you, then we'll travel the world and be rich and snobby together."

Normally when Pallain talked of their futures, Drakka humored his idea that their paths would cross again. She couldn't do so tonight. "No, we're not, Pal, you're going to go, and I'm going to stay here, and I'm never- I'm never going to see you again." Tears pooled in the young woman's eyes. Pallain left his valerian root and hugged his friend.

"I know. I know and I'm terrified. How are we going to survive more than ten minutes without seeing each other?"

Drakka sobbed into his shoulder. "If we had just gotten married-"

"We would have killed each other-"

"I know that, but they wouldn't have been able to stop me from going with you-"

"Herbmistresses can't get married, Drakka, and besides," Pallain paused and looked up, searching for any sign of Altha. Finding none, he finished his statement. "I don't like girls, and you don't know what you like."

"We wouldn't be proper rich people if we didn't have lovers."

Pallain huffed out a small laugh and kissed Drakka's forehead. "I do love you."

Drakka snuggled deeper into his arms. "I know. And I love you, too. That's not going to stop you from leaving, though."

"No, it won't." Pallain placed his chin on Drakka's head. "We both know how to read. We can write each other."

"Every day?"

"Every day. Even if I have to steal the paper."

"Good."

They fell asleep like that, wrapped around each other, both stealing one last moment before life pulled them apart.

The next morning, Drakka walked Pallain to his home, where his bags lay packed on his bed. "I'll help you saddle the horse."

"Thank you."

Pallain's mother frowned at Drakka the entire time, one of Pallain's younger brothers clinging to his mother's skirts as one of his sisters followed after Drakka with star-struck eyes. 

When the horse was saddled and Pallain's bags affixed to the sides, there was nothing left to do other than say goodbye. Drakka's eyes were filled with tears as she hugged her best friend, her brother in everything but blood, and her shoulders shook with sobs. "Please don't go."

"I have to."

"Pal, please, we'll-"

Pallain gently pulled Drakka off of him. "Darling, I love you with all my heart, but I can't stay here and you really shouldn't. We're both made for bigger and better things."

" _ Please _ ."

"I'll write. I promise."

Drakka grabbed Pallain's shoulders and looked him in the eye. "You be careful. Don't do anything too stupid, I won't be there to cover your sorry ass."

"More like you won't be there to pull my sorry ass into mischief."

Gold filtered into Drakka's violet eyes. "May Raphael guide your footsteps and protect your heart." The traveler's blessing rolled off her tongue. It settled onto Pallain's shoulders like a worn old coat, comfortable and soft, a familiar comfort.

"Thank you." They hugged one last time, both pulling the other as close as possible, breathing in their familiar scents one last time, tangling hands in each other's hair and memorizing the little things about each other. "I have to go." Pallain let go and swung up onto his horse.

Drakka reached up and took his hand. "Be safe. Until death do us part?"

Pallain leaned down to kiss her cheek, Drakka returning the gesture. "Until death do us part." He let go of Drakka's hand and waved to his family before snapping his reins and crying, "G-yup." His horse started plodding away just as he began to cry. Drakka didn't follow him, knowing he didn't want that. Pallain's siblings tried but quickly grew bored of doing so and raced back to their mother.

Pallain's mother, Ana, had never gotten along with Drakka. Still, the two women stood in solidarity as they watched his shrinking figure.

Ana placed a hesitant hand on Drakka's shoulder. "It's good that he's leaving. He would have been unhappy here."

Drakka's eyes didn't leave her friend. "I know."

Ana turned to look at the young Herbmistress in training. "You will be unhappy here without him."

"I know."

Pallain's blue eyes narrowed on someone else's face. "Then follow him."

"You know I can't."

Ana let go and walked back to her house, stating over her shoulder, "God has strange ways of bringing people together."

Drakka looked at Ana skeptically but didn't say anything.

Pallain's figure had long since disappeared when Drakka finally went home, feeling strangely empty.

She half expected Pallain to be sitting on the hill, a stupid grin on his face and an even stupider plan for the day. Of course, he wasn't, and he would never be again.

Altha waited for her with a cup of chamomile tea and a warm hug, letting Drakka cry on the older woman's shoulder. "It'll be ok. I promise it'll be ok."

"He's  _ gone _ ."

"I know, I know. I know, my child. I know."

Altha didn't make Drakka do her lessons that day, she just sent the young woman off to bed and let her be, knowing that Drakka would be incapable of anything that day.

And the next. 

And the next.

And the day after that.

Drakka barely ate or spoke until a letter arrived three weeks later.

_ My dearest love, _

_ I have arrived, and I have arrived safely, which I'm sure will come at a great shock to you. I find myself barely functioning without you. I wish I had stayed, but I know that I had to leave. My uncle laughed at me when he saw how I addressed this letter, but I don't care. You are my dearest love, and I will refer to you as such until I no longer have the blood in my fingers to write it and the air in my lungs to say it. The city is terrible, Drakka. Everyone lives right on top of each other and everything smells of shit. The apothecary charges outrageous prices, you would hate it here. _

_ There are, however, several handsome young men that I now work with and around. I'll let you know how that goes. I've been referring everyone who doesn't interest me to you, so who knows, you might be getting actual love letters in the next few days. _

_ With love, _

_ Pallain _

Drakka carefully held the letter so her tears couldn't fall on it, brushing her fingers where the ink was smudged. She delicately folded the letter and tucked it into her Book before picking up a quill and parchment to write her own letter.

"Oh, so he's alive." Altha saw what Drakka was doing, the sparkle in the young woman's eyes was quite hard to miss. Especially after it had been missing for so long.

"Yes, he's alive and safe in the city."

"That's good. Tell him I say hello."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is from Pallain's perspective because what is the point in letters if both perspectives aren't shown?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific chapter warnings are at the bottom

_ My dearest love, _

_ I'm glad you're safe. I've barely slept out of worry for you. Your uncle can go fuck himself with a pinecone for all I care. We've been calling each other 'my dearest love' since we were ten, we're sure as fuck not changing now. I'm not doing well without you, either, but I suppose we will both have to adapt.  _

_ I can only imagine how awful the city is. Tell me, do people really stop to take a shit wherever they please when walking from place to place? Give that apothecary a piece of mind for me. _

_ I'm sending a little gift to help you with your wooing adventures. Keep me up to date with that, now that you're gone, the town has lost any interest it might have had. I better not be getting any love letters from anyone but you, Pallain. You know you're the only man in my life who Altha won't kill on sight. _

_ With love,  _

_ Drakka _

"Oi, Pallain, you coming with us tonight?"

Pallain looked up from Drakka's letter to see Ailwin standing at his doorway, grinning like an idiot. "Yeah, I'll be there in a moment, just let put this aw- Hey!"

"'My dearest love?' Lads, come in here, Pallain's got himself a lass!"

"No, she's not, we're not- give that back!"

Hervey and Fabian entered Pallain's room. "Little Pal's got himself a girl? Interesting," Fabian said, wiggling his eyebrows at Pallain.

"Aye, shut up, shut up, I'm going to read the letter," Ailwin said before clearing his throat. "'My dearest love'-"

Hervey wheezed and slapped his knee. "Ooh, Pallain!"

"Quiet, you fool. It gets better. 'I'm glad you're safe. I've barely slept out of worry for you.' Aw, Pallain, your lady is worried about you! How cute!"

Pallain turned dark red, and Hervey and Fabian made kissing noises.

"I wouldn't read any more of that-"

"Your lady sent you a little something to fire you up, did she? I do believe I will keep reading. 'Your uncle can-'" Ailwin paused for a moment, confused, then started laughing as he finished the sentence. "'Your uncle can go fuck himself with a pinecone for all I care. We've been calling each other 'my dearest love' since we were ten, we're sure as fuck not changing now. I'm not doing well without you, either, but I suppose we will both have to adapt.' Pallain! You didn't tell me your lady had a mouth on her!"

Pallain grabbed for the letter, Ailwin lifting it into the air where Pallain couldn't reach it. "Stop that, she's not my lady, we're just friends!"

Ailwin grinned. "Yes, of course, my dearest love. Let's see what else your lady has to say, shall we?"

"No!"

The other boys ignored Pallain, cheering for Ailwin to read on. "'I can only imagine how awful the city is. Tell me, do people really stop to take a shit wherever they please when walking from place to place? Give that apothecary a piece of mind for me.' Wow, Pallain, I'm really feeling the love between you two."

"We're not in love," Pallain cried desperately, sinking into his chair and putting his head in his hands.

"Not with that attitude, you're not," Ailwin said. "'I'm sending a little gift to help you with your wooing adventures.' What did she send you? A sexy drawing? A scrap of an underthing?" Pallain remained stubbornly mute, knowing the boys, despite appearances, weren't dumb and would know precisely why Drakka sent the oil. "Alright, fine, you don't want to share, I don't blame you. 'Keep me up to date with that, now that you're gone, the town has lost any interest it might have had. I better not be getting any love letters from anyone but you, Pallain. You know you're the only man in my life who Altha won't kill on sight. With love, Drakka'."

Hervey leaned forward, feigning interest. "Damn, man, you really aren't courting her! Mind if I give it a try?" 

Pallain looked scandalized. "What? No, I'm not letting any of you- you're not her type."

Fabian nodded like he understood. "Oh, she's only into other lasses and Altha is her lover?"

Pallain turned green. "What? No! She's a Herbmistress in training, Altha is her teacher!"

All three of the other boys gaped in horror. "You mean she doesn't even-" Ailwin made a suggestive motion with his hand.

"I don't know!"

"Alright, boys, why don't you leave Pallain alone, he's new in town and has enough to deal with without your bullshit," Stephan, Pallain's uncle's oldest apprentice, said as he appeared in the doorway. "He probably wants to write her back in peace. Without you buffoons teasing him."

Pallain threw his hands in Stephan's direction. "Thank you, Stephan!"

Ailwin batted his lashes. "Alright,  _ my dearest love _ , write your letter. We'll be in-"

"The Ox Tail Tavern, I know, I know. I won't be long, I promise."

The trio of terror left, talking about the girls and the ale and other things that men who aren't into men talk about. Pallain sighed and hung his head. "That bad?"

"That bad."

Stephan slowly walked into the room. "They'll get better once they get used to you."

Pallain looked up at him, panic in his sky blue eyes. "They will?"

Stephan shrugged and plopped down on the cot. "Most likely."

Pallain dropped his head back into his hands. "Fuck."

A sardonic smirk crept onto Stephan's face. "Indeed. What is this gift your friend sent you?"

What Stephan could see of Pallain's face turned red. "It's nothing."

Stephan leaned forward and placed his chin on his palms. "Oh, it's something if it's got you blushing like this."

Pallain squeezed his eyes shut and prayed. "It's really nothing."

A dark eyebrow arched upwards as Stephan smirked. "Mmhmm."

Pallain stood up and splayed his hand in a gesture of innocence. "It's nothing!"

Stephan's smirk became a shit-eating grin. "I'm sure."

"It's- fine, just stopping looking at me like that and shut the door!" Stephan did, waiting expectantly as Pallain dug the oil out of his bag. "It's-it's oil."

Stephan frowned and came over to inspect the little stone jar. "Oil? For what?" Pallain's blush darkened. "Oh. You..."

Pallain wouldn't look at him. "Yeah."

Stephan took pity on the new boy. "Me too." Pallain's head shot up, shock in his gaze. "You're not my type, though."

Pallain dropped his head again. "Oh."

Stephan clapped a hand on Pallain's shoulder. "Cheer up, we men have our own pubs, ditch the skirt-chasers and come with me, I'll find you a man."

"That's really not-"

"Come on, my treat. Brother to a brother."

Pallain looked at Stephan, to the jar in his hand, back to Stephan, to his desk where the letter still sat, and back to Stephan. "Let me write this letter."

"Atta boy."

Stephan kept up a friendly chatter with Pallain as the blonde wrote his letter, asking about Pallain's hometown, Drakka, Pallain's family. When Pallain finally signed his name, folded the letter, and tied a knot in the shape of a  _ D _ .

"That's a classy knot," Stephan said, poking the twine.

"She's a classy girl."

"With a name like Drakka? She has to be." Stephan stepped back and looked Pallain up and down, frowning.

Pallain fought the urge to cover himself up. "What are you doing?"

Stephan's dark eyes narrowed. "Is that what you're wearing?"

Pallain crossed his arms in front of his chest. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

Stephan winced and spread his hands, wiggling his fingers. "It screams 'not interested in anything but a candle-lit dinner'. We need something a little more... spicy."

Pallain spluttered indignantly. "Not interes- I'm not- I don't even own anything- what does spicy even mean?"

Stephan heaved a huge sigh. "It means, my dear, sweet Pallain, that you want to appear interested in a whole lot more than a candle-lit dinner where we're going." Stephan started unlacing Pallain's shirt, ignoring Pallain's embarrassment. "It means that you are prepared to get hot and heavy with someone and you aren't afraid to admit it."

Pallain shoved Stepan away. "You know what, I'm going will Ailwin. No thanks. I'm good. Please never say any of that again."

Stephan showed his palms in defeat. "Alright, so you're not ready, that's fine. Just... tell me when you are and I'll show you a whole new world," Stephan said, winking as he left.

Pallain stared after him before slowly lacing his shirt back up and pulling his jacket on.

"Interested in a candle-lit dinner, my ass."

Pallain could hear the tavern two streets away, the sound of boisterous laughter and bawdy young men carried exceptionally well in the crisp fall air. Pallain found himself standing outside the door, unable to go in.

Then Hervey came stumbling out with a pretty blonde girl, and Pallain realized he had three choices.

One, he could go home and enjoy a night by himself with that oil, which could be fun. Lonely, but fun.

Two, he could walk into this tavern and be uncomfortable all night while girls tried to get his attention and money. And the boys teased him. Can't forget that bit.

Three, he could try and track down Stephan and possibly have a good night surrounded people with his same... proclivities.

Fabian stumbling out a few moments later with a brown-haired beauty cemented his decision. Pallain pushed into the tavern, located Ailwin, and strode over to him. "I just came to say that I'm not doing this."

Ailwin looked away from his own girl to stare at Pallain in disbelief. "Really? Why?"

"It's not my thing. I'm but a simple country boy, it's simply too much for me."

Ailwin grinned and looked to be about to say something when his current lady slid a hand up his thigh. "Cool, man, you do what you gotta do. You do understand that we're going to have to give you a hard time about this?"

"Sure, why not. Don't get her pregnant."

The girl made an offended noise, but Pallain had already left. He had a date with his hands after all. And he had to put an account of his "wooing adventures" on paper for Drakka.

A letter, good wank session, and peaceful sleep later, Pallain woke up in a significantly better mood than he was the day before. Stephan winked at him over breakfast, making a subtle motion with his fingers. Pallain blushed and nodded, scared the other boys would find out.

Stephan caught up to Pallain as the blonde forked hay down from the loft. "So, did you have fun with the skirt-chasers."

"I didn't go."

"Oh, I see. Did you have fun?"

Pallain turned bright red but managed to keep his voice even when he replied, "I did, actually."

"Good, good. That's good."

Pallain looked up from his work. "Why did you say it like that?"

"Well," Stephan said, stretching the word out. "I might have told my... particular friend that there was a new boy with our interests at work... and he said there was a new boy at his work who didn't chase skirts... and I got you a candle-lit dinner. Tonight. With my partner and I, too. Thought that might be easier than taking you to the tavern. If you're interested, of course."

"I- Tonight?"

"Tonight."

"I don't have to be... spicy, do I?"

Stephan grinned. "Not at all."

"What's his name?"

Geoffrey was handsome, well-spoken, intelligent- and an absolute ass.

Pallain found himself counting the seconds until the dinner ended as Stephan and his partner, Elias, talked animatedly throughout the night.

Geoffrey, due to his intelligence and status as a well-off merchant's firstborn, thought Pallain must be a simple peasant who could be dazzled with big words and bigger jewelry.

Pallain, who grew up on his mother's stories of his father and Altha's teachings, was unimpressed and uninterested. 

Finally, after an hour-long description of Geoffry's plans for his father's business and how all of his father's workers were incapable, Pallain snapped. 

"If you have it all figured out, why are you not in charge? Or at least with part-ownership? Why are you in this city so far away from your father's main business. It's not because of how talented you are, or how smart you are, it's actually the opposite. You're an arrogant, idiotic ass and unfit to run a pigsty, let alone a bank."

Stephan and Elias looked over, amusement on their faces.

Geoffrey gasped indignantly. "How dare you! I-"

"Alright, I'm done here." Pallain dragged Geoffrey out of his seat and pulled him to the door, Geoffrey protesting the entire time. gave the prat one last shove through the door and shut it. "Cursed night upon you!" He turned around to see Stephan and Elias cackling. "What?"

"Your face," Stephan cried, gasping for breath. 

Elias snickered. "It's about time someone shut that prat up."

Stephan wheezed out, "his face."

Elias patted his partner on the back consolingly. "I haven't heard someone say cursed night upon you in years."

Stephan managed to collect himself enough to say, "Elias, his face."

Elias shot Stephan a look somewhere between fond and exasperated. "Yes, Stephan, I heard you. His face was quite comical."

Stephan tried to recreate Pallain's facial expression and failed, laughing harder. "He looked like he ate a lemon!"

Pallain, who had ignored the other two men and gone back to his seat to eat the rest of his meal, looked up. "What's a lemon?"

Stephan stared at Pallain in shock. "You don't know what a lemon is?"

"No?"

Elias gave his partner a pouty frown. "You've failed him, Stephan. He's your little crooked boy and he hasn't had a lemon yet."

"Hey!" Pallain said, unsure if being called a little crooked boy was a good thing or a bad thing.

Stephan stood up dramatically. "Oh, we have to fix this situation immediately. To the Midnight Market!"

Pallain found himself trying all sorts of things as Elias and Stephan charmed the vendors. Lemons were repulsive. Chocolate was sent down from Heaven, and he really rather liked the sweet rolls from the grasslands, they paired nicely with the bitter tea from the White Fang Mountains.

Stephan and Elias walked Pallain home before going their own way. Pallain missed Drakka desperately, he had the entire night, knowing she would have loved the different flowers and plants sold in the market, the sweets they could have tried together.

He wrote another letter to describe his evening, knowing that Drakka would want to see proof that he wasn't hiding from life without her to kick his ass into motion.

She was always the braver one of the pair.

His mother called them two sides of the same coin, one rash and impulsive, the other cautious and thoughtful.

Altha called them two halves of a whole idiot.

Drakka called them siblings by choice, not by blood, which, ever since his sixteenth birthday, hasn't been exactly true, but it's close.

Pallain knew what they were, though. His grandmother, on a rare visit, used the term  _ platonic soulmates _ , two people created to form a bond of friendship stronger than anything. 

He would never see his Drakka again, but he would never stop writing her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More foul language.  
> Straight boys are called skirt-chasers.  
> There is both gay talk and straight talk of sex.  
> There is also a vague reference to heterosexual sex but all females are consenting.  
> There is reference to masturbation but no actual masturbation.  
> And finally, a gay date gone very wrong in a non-sexual way.


	3. Chapter Three

_ My dearest love, _

_ The boys found your letter and thought it was a love letter. One of them, Ailwin, read it to Fabian and Hervey and their faces, Drakka. While I was horribly embarrassed, it's quite funny in memory. Initially, they thought we were in love. Love, Drakka. While I love you, I am not in love with you. Please don't mention my preferences by name, while the boys can be dense, they're not dumb. _

_ One of the boys does share my preferences, which is nice. His name is Stephan, he has brown hair and brown eyes and is handsome in a way that I can't quite pinpoint, but he also said that I'm not his type, so that's fun. He is the room with me as I write this letter. I think you two would be friends, but you also might hate each other on sight. As it's doubtful either of you will ever meet the other, I won't worry over it any more than I worry if the sun will rise. I do believe that Stephan is going to take me somewhere for men like me tonight. I'm not sending this letter until I know how that goes, I think you'll be okay with waiting for more details. I'm incredibly nervous and could greatly use your encouragement skills right now. _

_ For your information, only drunk people and animals shit in the streets, so that's half the city. I already did give the apothecary a piece of your mind. I know what beeswax should cost. It's dreadfully overpriced. You would have flipped a table. _

_ Thank you for the gift, I'm not sure if there will be anyone else for me to use it with but I'll sure as Hell enjoy it. The other letter will contain my wooing adventures. I warned the boys off writing you. Did I say I was originally going with them tonight? I was. My plan was to get drunk and forget the whole experience. I think you'd castrate the three of them on sight, they only think with their stomachs and their pricks. Either that or you'd have your fun and leave them to hang. I've got to go now, Stephan is getting restless and I don't want him going through my stuff. _

_ With love,  _

_ Pallain _

_ My dearest love, _

_ Tonight's wooing adventure didn't even happen. Stephan scared me off shortly after I got done writing the first letter, so I didn't go with him. I ended up going to tell Ailwin and the others I wouldn't be going with them tonight before coming back here to write this letter and try out your gift. I'm sorry that I don't have any exciting details. _

_ With love,  _

_ Pallain _

_ My dearest love, _

_ Stephan approached me this morning with a tempting offer. As this was before I mailed the other two, I decided to include tonight's events as well. _

_ Stephan has a partner, Elias. He's nice. Fine as silk, I don't know where Stephan found him. Black hair, green eyes, a jaw and cheekbones that could chop wood, skin as rich as night. Elias works at a fancy rich-person bank and, apparently, the owner's son moved to take charge of this city's bank and shared my interests. _

_ Stephan and Elias secured a private dinner for the four of us and the food was quite lovely. There was a roast pheasant, carrots, a chewy bread, and some kind of pudding thing for dessert. The company, however, was  awful . Geoffrey, that's his name, was a stuck-up ass who bragged the entire evening and made derogatory statements about the workers, like Elias, at the bank.  _

_ I dragged him out, which Stephan and Elias found quite funny. Then Stephan found out I had never eaten a lemon before and the pair of idiots dragged me to the midnight market to try one.  _

_ I ended up hating the lemon, it was incredibly sour and tastes a bit like that nasty tea you try to give me every winter. Chocolate, however, is a gift from of Heaven. I'll see if I can send a sample with the next letter, you'd love it. I tried sweet rolls from the Grasslands, too. They go very nicely with that tea from the White Fang Mountains that Altha loves. They sell that everywhere here, I'll send a jar of that with the chocolate. I still much prefer cider or mead, but to each their own, I guess. You would adore the market, it's incredible. There is an entire street of herbs and plants and other Herbmistress-type things you like. Besides, you get to haggle without the fear of your supplier moving on without selling you anything.  _

_ With love, _

_ Pallain _

Drakka smiled at the letters in front of her, spread out on the floor of her bedroom. Pallain didn't appear to be isolating himself, unless he's lying, but he wouldn't lie to her.

Altha pushed aside the curtain that separated Drakka's part of the bedroom from Altha's. "Did that fool boy write back?"

"Yes, Altha, he did," Drakka said, rummaging through the trunk at the foot of her bed for her quill and inkwell.

Altha opened the curtain further, frowning. "Mmm. How's he doing?"

Drakka found her inkwell but her quill wasn't in its usual place. "I think he's good. He's made a few friends." Her quill slipped out from her Book.

"You can write your letter later. Sarah's sick, I need you to make up an onion poultice to loosen up her cough. I'll be there a few minutes after with a honey and mint tonic."

Drakka scrambled to her feet, twisting her braid into a bun as she hurried to the supply room. She grabbed a large pot, placing onions, a knife, a cotton cloth, and a clean rag into it before heading to Sarah's house.

Sarah's youngest daughter already had the stove lit and water drawn up for the boil. Drakka nodded gratefully she began thinly slicing the onions, putting them in the water to steam. She could hear Sarah's cough every few minutes, wet and rattling, bad for this time of year.

After five rounds of coughing, the onions were ready. Drakka gently strained the water out into one of Sarah's pots then carefully dumped the onions on the rag, patting them dry. She then moved them to the cotton cloth, tying the corners together and waiting for thirty heart-beats until taking the compress to Sarah.

"Hello, Ms. Sarah," Drakka said, smiling at the middle-aged woman.

Sarah weakly smiled back before coughing again. "Thank you for coming, Drakka."

"Oh, it's no problem. I'm just going to apply this poultice, it's going to be a little warm. Tell me if its too hot, though."

Sarah smiled again. "You've never given me a poultice too hot before."

Drakka gave the older woman a fake smile. "There's a first time for everything."

Drakka heard Altha enter the house and talk to Sarah's daughter before the Master Herbmistress strolled into Sarah's room, a cough tonic in hand. "Drink this." Sarah did without protesting. Altha sat on the foot of the bed, leaning forward. "Anything else other than the cough?"

Sarah nodded. "I've been getting these terrible headaches and vomiting."

Altha gave the older woman a kind smile, placing a gentle hand on Sarah's leg. "I do believe we can fix that." 

"Thank you, Herbmistress."

Altha smiled again, gesturing with her eyes that it was time for Drakka to leave. The herbmistress in training left the room, pulling the curtain across the doorway to give the pair some privacy.

Sarah's daughter stared at the embers, not moving as Drakka gathered her things and left.

"Is my mother going to die?" 

Drakka paused at the whispered question. Herbmistresses never say one way or another until after their patient is healed, but Sarah was in no danger of death. Drakka opted for the middle ground. "I don't know."

Sarah's daughter nodded and didn't say another word. Drakka cursed under her breath and left, heading back to her home to prepare what Altha calls the "fuck off, headache" wafers. Drakka ate them once and regretted it. The crackers were brittle and the seeds in them got stuck in your teeth. The only thing holding the baked good together was the eggs and milk, giving the crunchy discs a taste too bland to enjoy and had a horribly bitter aftertaste. However, they were incredibly efficient when combined with ginger-mint tea and lavender oil. 

As the wafers began to bake, Drakka began boiling the tea-water, carefully monitoring both of the recipes as waited impatiently. Every moment counts in the winter.

Finally, both the wafers and the tea was ready. Drakka quickly measured the items into containers before racing back to Sarah's house. Altha had a fire roaring in the hearth. Sweat immediately accumulated on Drakka's brow, but the young herbmistress simply shed her outer layer and suffered.

Altha took the wafers, tea, and oil, muttering a quick, "Thank you," before going back into Sarah's room. The daughter cried, alternating between pacing and crouching by the door.

Drakka sighed, accepting her fate, and approached the younger girl, pulling a cookie out of her pocket and handing it to Sarah's daughter. "What's your name?"

"Miriam."

Drakka sat Miriam down and started boiling water for ordinary tea. "You are very brave and incredibly helpful, Miriam."

"My mother is going to die," the girl whispered, her voice cracking into another sob.

Drakka didn't look at Miriam, scared the young girl would interpret the scowl as a sign of imminent death. "Altha is good at her craft, don't give up yet."

Miriam started sobbing again and Drakka prayed for the tea to steep faster, unsure of how to deal with the girl.

An hour later, Altha came out of the room and beckoned Drakka inside the room.

Sarah slept, only a slight rattle inside her chest.

Drakka and Altha stood at the foot of the bed, their arms crossed over their chests. "She's fine?"

Altha nodded. "She should be. Did I teach you the cough tea?"

"Yes."

Altha's lips quirked into a facsimile of a smile. "After you've written your letter, prepare five days' worth of dry ingredients for Sarah, as well as five days' worth of lavender oil, dry headache tea, and all the wafers you made today."

Drakka hid an excited smile. "Yes, Teacher."

The Master Herbmistress caught Drakka's arm as the younger woman turned to leave. "And tell that girl to stop crying, her mother was never in danger of dying."

Drakka snorted and left, calmly explaining to Miriam that Sarah would be alright.

Miriam cried tears of joy and Drakka fled, racing back to her bedroom to write back to Pallain. Altha returned to the house shortly after Drakka finished the letter, obviously frustrated.

Drakka immediately assumed Sarah's cough didn't leave. "Did Sarah-"

Altha waved her hand dismissively. "No, no, it's her daughter. Sarah just had a cough, why was Marian-"

"Miriam," Drakka said absently as she tied twine into the shape of a  _ P  _ around the letter.

"-Miriam so upset?"

Drakka finished the last knot on the twine. "I don't know. I found it odd, as well. Could Sarah be pregnant again? Her husband was home recently."

Altha scoffed. "Sarah's in her late fifties, she's too old."

Drakka shrugged. "Then I see no reason for Miriam to be as... weird as she was."

Altha shook her head and stood, disappearing back into her half of the bedroom without another word. 

Drakka laughed slightly at her teacher's exasperation before making her way into the storeroom to prepare Sarah's dosages.

Sarah recovered from her cough within a few days. Soon, the older woman was right back at the loom, spinning the wool that she would sell in the spring.

Miriam started following Drakka around, asking the other girl questions about Drakka's work. Drakka didn't like it much, as she knew that Miriam had caught a severe case of hero-worship, just like Drakka once had for Altha.

Altha teased Drakka about it, asking if Drakka was going to get an apprentice before she became an Herbmistress herself. Drakka just scoffed and continued writing in her Book, horrified of the thought of  _ Miriam _ as an apprentice.

The streams froze over, teeth-aching cold water frozen under two inches of ice. 

Altha and Drakka started giving mothers of small children careful instruction on how to prevent coughs and fevers, stopping at each house once a day to look in at the occupants.

The first snow gives two days of warning. The first day dawns bright and clear, the same blue as Pallain's eyes, and it is bitterly cold. The sunrise and sunset are jagged, the colors not blending as they usually do, fracturing through any clouds there may be.

The second day is colder, cold enough that the children aren't allowed out to play, cold enough that the cow's milk freezes in the pail, that the metal will break before it bends. Shutters are tethered down and the edges stuffed with rags. Drakka and Altha warn everyone to stock up on anything they need, bustling about the village with their cloaks wrapped tight, their hands jammed in their armpits. 

They give any family needing medicine what they need and disappear into their hut. The men of the village have already supplied them with wood, a fifth of their cuttings. The men left food made by their wives, blankets, little gifts of thanks.

Altha and Drakka checked their stores, checked the water jugs, and prayed to Raphael and God, asking for their blessing and protection through the storm.

The animals come soon after the moon rises when the clouds have just begun to creep in from the edges of the sky. Wolves and deer and birds gathering behind the Herbmistresses' home, waiting for the warmth that would be poured into their bones by the gold power in their blood.

The raven is last, for she is Altha's familiar, even though neither of them would acknowledge it. Drakka has yet to find her familiar, leaving her to envy the friendly relationship between Altha and the raven.

Altha wouldn't teach this to Drakka until Drakka was officially an Herbmistress, but Drakka could still watch.

The older Herbmistress's hair turns silver in the moon's light, her few gray hairs glowing white as the gold crackles at the edges of her fingers tips, tracing glowing shapes into the air as Altha whispered the incantation.

The gold settled onto the animals' backs and disappeared. The animals gave one last bow of deference before slinking back into the woods.

Drakka and Altha would then retreat into their house until the storm left.

The wind would howl and the snows would come, but the house in the hillside remained warm, the two women sitting by the fire, reading or knitting or writing until the wind stopped.

Then they went to count the dead.

They were lucky, this time. The townspeople who had to go and check on livestock used the lines strung between house and barn to find their way. Everyone else stayed inside.

Drakka spent extra time with Pallain's remaining family, helping them repair where the snow had weakened the roof. Pallain's mother wasn't friendly about it, but she accepted the help and that was all Drakka asked for. 

The two Herbmistresses took stock of their supplies and prayed the traders would come before the next snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone gets sick in this chapter, but it is non-fatal. However, the character's child believes their parent is about to die.  
> The illness is not graphically described. There are multiple references to angels and God in this chapter.  
> On a side note, all the medicines used by Altha and Drakka are herbal remedy things I found online. I have plans to actually make everything mentioned in this chapter and later in the book if the materials used actually exist. If anyone is interested in seeing these recipes, I'll make "Drakka's Book" and post it as a separate thing.


	4. Chapter Four

_ My dearest love, _

_ I think Altha misses you. She keeps saying to, "Tell that fool boy to take care of himself," and asking after you. Sarah got sick, it was just a cough, but you know how this time of year is. That stubborn old woman also had migraines and didn't tell us. I'd understand if she ate Altha's fuck off, headache wafers before, but, since she hasn't, I don't know why she put up with them. Did you know that Sarah's youngest daughter's name is Miriam? I didn't. She cries a  _ _ lot _ _. _

_ Those idiots thought we were in love? Dumbasses. Your request is noted, I shall use our elaborate code instead. Kcid doog emos flesruoy teg og. Stephan sounds nice. Pass him a message for me?  _

_ Pallain is a shy boy. You have to ease him into things, otherwise he spooks. Be careful with him. If you hurt him, I will kill you. _

_ If he tries to move into your best-friend spot, I will walk to the Capital and beat his ass. You can tell him that, too.  _

_ The other three idiots can accept my disdain and distaste. You are absolutely right, I would fuck and duck those fools. I have high standards. They don't sound like finger and linger people.  _

_ I'm glad you like the oil. Tell me when it's halfway so I can send you more. Do you want a bigger container or the recipe? I'll just send both. You don't believe when I tell you you're gorgeous, but as you've never looked in a mirror, I'll forgive you. You better have "exciting details" in your next letter.  _

_ Could you get me sketches of Stephan and Elias? I'll pay you back if you tell me the price in your next letter. I want to see what these people look like, Pallain. I need proof that Elias can chop wood with his jaw. Get a sketch of yourself, too, so you can see what you look like and start to market yourself as the fine piece of work you are. Geoffrey sounds like an ass. I'm not surprised you dragged him out and threw him on the street. Yes, I know you didn't say that, but I also know you.  _

_ Pallain, I know you hate lemon. You always scrunch your nose up when Altha or I try to give you a tea with _ _ dried lemon _ _ in it. Did you not realize that? Chocolate does sound good, I talked to Altha and she said that you could melt chocolate with hot milk and drink it. She also said the Grasslands have good food and to try desert food, though she laughed about the desert food, so it's probably spicy. Don't bother sending the tea, we have an entire urn of the leaf mixture. You've always had a bit of a sweet tooth, but sweets tend to rot your teeth, so make sure you clean them. _

_ Altha told me stories of the markets when I was little. Maybe someday I'll come and visit you and you can take me on a tour. My love for  _ _ bartering _ _ with the traders led to them sending their younger members to me as a test, so don't you dare make fun of that. I'm part of the trader orientation now, you little shit. I'm the Trader Hazer. _

_ Please take care of yourself and be safe, not everyone is as nice as they appear. _

_ With love, _

_ Drakka _

Pallain wheezed into his fist as he finished Drakka's letter, Stephan and Elias laughing next to him.

Stephan managed to catch his breath long enough to gasp out, "Good lord, what did she do to the traders?"

Pallain tried to control his breathing enough to explain The Incident. "A trader attempted to cheat her and she ended up talking him out of a year's worth of spices. She was ten."

"Oh my God, tell us more," Elias said, Stephan still cackling like a madman.

"Really?" Pallain said incredulously, "Of the entire letter, you just want the Trader Hazer story?"

Elias gave Pallain a shit-eating smirk. "Oh, we want the rest of it, it just seems that the trader story is the longest."

Pallain groaned. "Alright, fine, but you two are buying drinks next time."

Elias winked at the younger boy. "Deal." 

Pallain tried to sober himself as he recalled the details of The Incident. "We were ten, and it was the first time Altha trusted Drakka to go and get something from the traders by herself. All Altha wanted was cinnamon and cloves, but Drakka had other plans. She marched her sassy little self right up to the spice trader, a man at least three times her size and from the North Lands, so he was as pale as can be and muscled like a bull. He had all of these complicated braids, even his beard was braided, and an eyepatch, so naturally, I was afraid of him and Drakka decided to pick a fight with him."

The two lovers shared a look."Oh, she's one of those girls."

"You say that like it's a bad thing, Stephan. Anyway, this mountain of a man thinks that because Drakka is a little girl, he can cheat her. Unfortunately for him, Drakka could read and do maths, so as he's telling her the prices, she just crosses her little arms and raises a brow and goes, 'You're lying.'"

Both men gasped. "No, she did not," Elias cried.

Pallain laughed and nodded, remembering the big man's face. "She did. The trader stops mid-sentence and tries to comprehend what happens before Drakka unleashes all her ten-year-old knowledge on him."

"What did she say?"

Pallain grinned at the two fools before imitating Drakka. "'Sir, cinnamon and cloves are one copper coin for two stone's worth. Seeing as I need four stone's worth of both, that's only four copper coins. Shame on you for trying to cheat the apprentice of an Herbmistress. You're trying to swindle us out of supplies we can use to save people's lives' and so on and so forth until she threatens to tell the leader of the trade group, who is a longtime friend of Altha's."

Stephan shook his head in disbelief. "You're making this up."

"I am not. This actually happened. We call it The Incident," Pallain said. "The trader gave her a year's worth of every spice he had on hand. She was quite proud when she roped him into carrying it all back to where she lived, too."

Stephan and Elias stopped laughing to stare at Pallain, gobsmacked. "She did this when she was  _ ten _ ?"

Pallain nodded. "Yup. She's terrifying."

Stephan leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. "What did Atha-"

"Altha," Pallain corrected.

"What did Altha do?"

"Berated the trader for trying to trick a little girl and a Herbmistress before guilt-tripping him into buying Altha a new pot."

Elias chuckled. "So, Drakka learned from the best?"

Pallain made a face at the dark-skinned man. "Of course. The prices in the markets would drive Drakka crazy." A nostalgic smile crept over Pallain's face, bittersweet memories clouding his eyes.

Stephan, concerned for his newest friend. "Invite her to come in the spring, surely she can take a month off from saving lives."

"My uncle-"

"Should be honored to host an Herbmistress in his house. That's good luck, you know."

Pallain rolled his eyes. "You're full of shit, Stephan."

Stephan shook his head earnestly. "No, it really is. Up north, entire villages will fight to have one of the ladies stay in their homes."

Elias nodded. "Yeah, there was a feud started in the Grasslands because two families couldn't agree on who would host the Herbmistress."

Pallain was confused. Altha and Drakka had lived in the house in the hill for at least fourteen years, if not longer. "Are there less of them where you two are from?"

Elias shook his head. "No, they just aren't stationary like yours are. They travel around to different villages, but I also think where Stephan and I are from has smaller villages closer together while you have bigger villages further apart."

Pallain. hopelessly confused by what Elias just attempted to explain to him. "What?"

Stephan got and up and tousled Pallain's hair, causing the younger boy to frown. "Don't worry your pretty little head about it. We have a big shipment of metal coming in tomorrow, get some sleep, Pallain."

"I need to write ba-"

Stephan's friendly tousle turned into a cuff on the back of his head. "Wait until tomorrow evening. You will most definitely have  _ details _ for your dearest love." With that ominous note, Stephan and Elias sashayed out of Pallain's room, the two lovers holding hands as they disappeared into the night. 

Pallain took Stephan's advice and went to bed. He knew that if Stephan took the time to specifically mention that Pallain should not write the letter until tomorrow, that the  _ details  _ would be worth it.

He dreamt of running with Drakka, their younger selves laughing breathlessly as grass taller than them formed a maze with their tracks.

The delivery courtyard of Pallain's uncle's business bustled with life before the sun rose, numerous workers running back and forth to clear the ample space. Pallain woke up earlier than usual, lying in his bed and listening to the sound of the city coming awake.

When the sun finally bothered to rise, Pallain got up, dressing quickly, nervous about why Stephan thought today was going to be interesting. 

The boy was waiting for Pallain by the kitchens. "You ready for this?"

Pallain glared at Stephan. "I don't know what's going on."

"Oh, my sweet innocent child, you will." Stephan made Pallain's plate as the blonde followed the brunette, protesting.

Pallain glared at Stephan the entire time they ate, causing the older boy to chuckle continuously under his breath. "Are you trying to put a hole in my head?"

"Don't tempt me. I don't like surprises, Stephan."

"I don't like your attitude,  _ Pallain _ ."

Pallain stuck his tongue out and scarfed the rest of his breakfast down. He ignored the commotion when Ailwin stumbled into the kitchens, hungover and with a hickey on his neck, Fabian and Hervey not far behind him. Stephan gave a derisive snort and mumbled something under his breath that Pallain couldn't make out.

The pair made their way to the courtyard, separating as the senior workers gave them instructions.

Pallain didn't see any of the other four boys until Pallain's uncle hollered that all the preparations were done and they were all getting a break.

Stephan came practically skipping up to Pallain. "They'll be here in the next hour or so, oh this is going to be fantastic!"

"You still haven't told me what's going on," Pallain grumbled, hungry and annoyed.

"I haven't? I could have sworn-"

"Cut the shit, Stephan."

"Alright, alright, fine, but let's get inside first. I can't feel my hands," Stephan said, rubbing his hands together and blowing on them.

Pallain shot his friend an incredulous look. "You're from the North Lands, Stephan."

"Not true, I'm from this very city. My parents moved here before I was born," Stephan said, opening a door and raising his eyebrows expectantly.

"Uh huh." Pallain took his cue and ducked inside, walking to where he could smell food. God, he was hungry.

Stephan ran a few steps to catch up. "I'm not lying."

Pallain stopped and turned around to give Stephan A Look. "You're from the North Lands, Stephan. It's not that cold."

Stephan splayed his arms out. "You're only warm because your Herbmistress's magic wore off on you!"

Pallain rolled his eyes and started walking again. "It's not magic, Stephan, it's power, and it can't rub off on someone."

Stephan slid in front of Pallain and flipped around so they were face to face. "Face it, Pallain, you've got good mojo because of Drakka. She's blessed you by association. Heaven knows your name because she does."

"Shut up." Pallain took great satisfaction when Stephan tripped on a loose board, sending the older boy to the ground.

Stephan scrambled to his feet, waving awkwardly at a concerned laundress who was passing by. "Hey, don't curse me with bad luck."

"I can't curse anyone,  _ Stephan _ ," Pallain growled. "Now, tell me what's going on."

"Fine, fine, don't get your tunic in a twist. There's a shipment of materials coming in from the Southwest Mountains and the desert, so there is about to be a whole bunch of  _ Kinduji _ and Fire Fae-"

"In the winter?"

"Well, sure, they come once every four months and stay for a month to get what they take back to their homes. Like I said, a whole bunch of  _ Kinduji, _ Fire Fae, and some Rock Elves, plus humans and," Stephan paused, grinning. "Dragons."

Pallain stopped walking. "Your joking. Dragons?"

Stephan nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, it's awesome."

"I thought the dragons stayed in the extremes?"

"Not these. There's four of 'em, two Light, two Fire. They're a little terrifying but nice as can be. Just be loud when you introduce yourself, and make sure they know where you are so they don't squash you."

"Dragons?"

"Yup."

Excitement bubbled up in Pallain's chest, remembering when a pair of Dark dragons had stopped to visit Altha one winter. "Awesome."

"I know, right? They're luckier than Herbmistresses!"

"I'm going to tell Drakka you said that."

"What? No!" Pallain laughed at Stephan's panicked cry and started running, the older boy giving chase. "Pallain! Pallain, don't you dare, I'll steal all your paper-"

Pallain grinned over his shoulder, running faster. "Oh, and risk me cursing you with bad luck? I think not!"

"You bastard! Don't you dare!"

Stephan tackled Pallain right as the younger boy ducked through a door back into the courtyard, the two boys rolling on the newly cleaned stones, both yelling nonsensical things about luck, Herbmistresses, and dragons, as they came to a stop at a pair of costly boots.

"Now what are you two up to?"

Pallain and Stephan looked up simultaneously, suddenly aware of who they were around. "Uh-"

Pallain's uncle smiled, the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes deepening. "Go inside and get some lunch, you'll need your strength for this shipment."

Both boys scrambled to their feet. "Yessir," Stephan said, his voice gone high.

Pallain shot his friend a weird look before shrugging and saying, "Yes, Uncle Gwyllyth."

Stephan turned his giggle into a cough, and Pallain's uncle Gwyllyth sighed. "I curse your grandmother every day for that name, you know."

Pallain grinned at his uncle, well aware of how the age-old conversation played out. "Dad told me."

Gwyllyth leaned in with a conspirational look in his eye. "Your father got the good family name."

"He disagreed," Pallain said. Stephan started slowly backing away.

Gwyllyth shook his head. "He lied. Xalvador is a much better name than Gwyllyth."

Stephan stopped sneaking away and failed to conceal his disbelieving laugh. Pallain barely hid his smile. "Dad very much disagreed with you."

Gwyllyth clapped Pallain on the shoulder. "Well, your father never could admit I was right, but it does no good to speak ill of the dead. It's bad luck, you know."

"I am aware, Uncle Gwyllyth."

"Stop using my name, you'll summon a demon. Now get out of here, you've lunch to eat and I've got my own shit to take care of." Gwyllyth made a shooing motion with his hand and walked away, whistling off-key.

Stephan grabbed Pallain's arm and dragged the younger boy into the kitchens. "Xalvador?"

"Let's just say I'm glad to be named after my mother's father, not my father."

"Amen. C'mon, I think I smell mince pies!"

The boys did indeed smell mince pies, and they did indeed eat the mince pies, right until they could hear rhythmic  _ fwump fwump fwump _ of wing beats.

Stephan grinned with food still in his mouth, causing Pallain to scowl in disgust. "You're disgusting."

Stephan swallowed quickly, choking slightly before he got the half-chewed pie down. "They're almost here."

Pallain stood up, wiping his hands on the napkin. "That doesn't make you any less disgusting."

"Rude."

"It's true."

"Still rude."

"I'm leaving."

"With that stick still up your ass?"

"It's not the only thing that's been up my ass."

"Shaddup, I'm eating, no schmexy talk in the kitchen."

Pallain laughed and left the kitchens, Stephan catching up with him a few moments later, right as a massive thud shook the floor beneath their feet.

Stephan turned to Pallain with a massive grin. "They're here."

The two took off again, throwing open the courtyard door to four dragons holding as still as possible. Elementals and humans scrambled over them, moving crates of metals and gems down to horse-drawn carts. The carts were then taken to different inspectors who checked the orders, then to different sides of the courtyard where younger workers were sorting the materials.

The sight took Pallain's breath away. "Wow."

Stephan knocked shoulders with the younger boy. "I know!"

"Every four months?"

"Yup."

"Wow."

Stephan looked at Pallain with confusion. "Ok, Pal, why don't we go over to the sorters? So we can do our job? And get paid?"

Pallain tore his eyes away from the sight in front of him and followed Stephan to where the Dumbass Trio were sorting copper and pewter. 

"It's about time you two showed up," Ailwin said as he popped the lid off a crate and started moving the copper into cotton sacks.

"That's your first crate, Ailwin, shut your mouth."

"You know I'm just giving you a hard time, Stephie."

"Do you want me to tell your mother what you've been up to,  _ Winnie _ ?"

Pallain ducked his head so neither boy would see his smile and got work. The hours flew by as the boys unloaded the copper and pewter ingots and placed them into sacks.

When the sun began to set, Gwyllyth stopped by where Pallain was working. "Pallain, I need you to go over to where the cameo stones are, fill two of our sorting bags' worth of stones of your choosing, and bring me them. The workers over there know you're coming. I'll be in my office."

Pallain nodded and rushed off, ducking around other workers, carts, and the dragons themselves until he found the cameo stones. A smaller man with greasy hair gave Pallain a shrewd look. "Are you Gwyllyth's nephew?"

"Aye, sir, I am."

"Pick your stones then, and be quick about it."

Pallain nodded and went to work. Not knowing what the stones were for, he filled one bag with a variety, and the other with only the ones that caught his eyes. He tied the bags to his waist and gave a parting nod to the greasy-haired man, then turned to head back to his uncle's office. He immediately smacked into the side of someone unloading a smaller crate, scattering the bags everywhere.

"I'm so sorry-"

"My apologies-"

Pallain looked up from hurriedly snatching the bags up off the ground into the eyes of the most beautiful boy Pallain had ever seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drakka is very candid in her letter. Pallain and Stephan have typical conversations two teenagers have. That should be it for this chapter.  
> Also, Drakka and Pallain's code is the entire sentence backward, which means Kcid doog emos flesruoy teg og is go get yourself some good dick.


	5. Chapter 5

_ My dearest love, _

_ Altha misses me? That's weird. I didn't know Miriam, I avoided that bunch after Sarah's oldest daughter tried to court me. Gave me the spangles, that one. Wish Sarah well for me, I'm sure you've already got her all fixed up, but I'll still pray. God might actually bother to listen this time, too. _

_ I don't appreciate your advice, by the way. Thought you might want to know that. I am perfectly capable of getting some on my own, you know. Stephan received your message and he is definitely scared of you. You are in no danger of losing the best-friend spot in my life, Drakka, calm down. Ailwin, Hervey, and Fabian aren't completely awful, they're just dense. You might enjoy their stupidity. They're kind of like chickens, except not edible. _

_ I might need some more oil and the recipe very soon, more on that later. I finally have some "exciting details" for you, but you're going to have to read a little further if you want them.  _

_ Your Yule gifts are with this letter. I sent you the sketches you asked for and some chocolate, plus the apothecary's prices so you can do whatever it is you're going to do with that. I made the cameo stones myself, so I hope you enjoy those. If you don't, lie and say that you do for the sake of my fragile ego. My uncle says I could be ready to start learning how to forge loops by spring, so you might get yourself a pewter necklace for your birthday. Talking about your birthday, you should visit in the spring or summer. It would be nice to see you again. Who knows, maybe you'll like it so much that you'll stay. You won't, I know you won't, but we can pretend. _

_ Trader Hazer? Really? That's the best you could do? After all those years of bragging about your genius and the best you can come up with is Trader Hazer? I'm disappointed in you. Also, how dare you accuse me of not taking care of my teeth? They're one of my best assets, of course I take care of them. Otherwise, I'm just this sapling of a tree with a spoof of yellow hair. _

_ You're probably ready for those details now, aren't you? Well, here they are. Uncle Gwyllyth receives shipments of metals and stones once every four months from a trading company. They're a mixture of Kinduji, Fire Fae, a couple Rock Elves, some humans, and four dragons. Four, Drakka.  _

_ Anyway, I literally ran into this handsome, there aren't words for beautiful he is, boy while I was fetching the cameo stones for my uncle. I didn't get to see him for very long or catch his name, but as the traders are here for another month, I'm sure I'll get to talk to him again.  _

_ It's not love, don't get your hopes up for love at first sight, but it's definitely attraction, and I might actually try for something. So yes, more oil. Please. In case I get lucky. Oh, and apparently Herbmistresses have good luck, so send some of that, too. You and I both know how I get around people I like. _

_ I promise any further details will arrive with my next letters and yes, I remember the highly unnecessary advice you gave me two years ago, I never want to talk about it again. Happy Yule, Drakka. _

_ With love, _

_ Pallain _

Drakka lifted up one of the cameo stones, marbled red and gold with a tulip carved onto it. Drakka smirked at the little piece of earth. "Pallain, you bastard. You're going to get yourself a man, aren't you?" The junior Herbmistress grinned. "It's about damn time, you idiot."

The young woman stood, cracking her back. The wind howled outside, but she paid it no mind, sauntering to the kitchen to give Altha her stone.

The older woman was brewing tea and writing in her Book. "Pallain sent you a Yule gift."

"He did?"

"Yes, Altha, he did. You two can stop pretending to hate each other anytime now."

Altha's smile lines made a rare appearance. "And have the poor boy think I care about him? Hardly."

"Just take the stone, for Raphael's sake." Altha's raven squawked at Drakka, causing the purple-eyed teenager to glare. "Hush, you tried to take out his eye, do you expect him to send you a gift?"

The raven began to preen itself indifferently and Altha sighed. "Tell Pallain that I appreciate his gift. And that he needs to take care of himself."

"Oh, so you do know his name."

"Don't tell him."

Drakka found herself smiling as she left the room, a bittersweet emotion swelling in her chest. The Yule celebration starts in two hours, she doesn't have time to cry over missing her best friend.

Her only friend.

Sure, everyone was kind to her; she kept them alive, they'd have to be stupid to... well, treat her as they treated the other girls who went out of their way to not be perfect little housewives. That and Altha scared the shit out of everyone.

Drakka opened her chest, digging down to the bottom for the ceremonial Yule robes, the dark greens and golds of the fabric a stark contrast to the rest of her wardrobe.

Pallain helped her get dressed every year and she helped him, a mutually symbiotic relationship. He would twist her night-dark hair into complicated braids and she would weave his golden hair into a simple plait. They both wore a lock of the other’s hair, braided out of sight but not out of mind.

Her hair lay in curls down her back, no blond lock hidden within. She could braid it, could attempt the fancy patterns Pallain learned for his sisters and for her, but it wouldn't be the same. Instead, she picked up strands of leather and wove a green cameo stone into them, twisting her hair around the band.

It wasn't the same. Drakka didn't know why she ever expected it to be the same.

She sat at the long table, the second-best cut of beef sitting on a plate in front of her, Altha to her left, the blacksmith to her right, happy chatter filling the hall around her, and she felt nothing. The blacksmith sat where Pallain had long since claimed as his own.

_ Pallain crossed his chubby little arms and pouted at his mother. "We're friends, of course I'm sitting by her." _

_ Anna made a face, trying to come up with a way to tell Pallain that Drakka wasn't the sort of girl that the good boys made friends with. "Pallain, you can't- you don't want to be-" _

_ Altha sighed. "Let the boy sit, Anna, what's the worse that can happen? He learns something about the truth of the world? God forbid." _

Pallain had been at Drakka's side ever since, until now. Now, he was gone, and the pain that Drakka could usually ignore rushed to the forefront of her chest, an aching, spiny thing.

Pallain wasn't there to make weird faces with her, to make fun of whatever crazy outfit the chief's daughter wore and avoiding the flirtations of the same girl. 

Sneaking ale from the adults when no one was looking. 

Later, when everyone was pleasantly full and starting to get pleasantly drunk, the old men would pull out older instruments and begin to play dancing songs, their wives singing along.

Pallain wasn't there to drag her into the middle of the dance floor and say, "No one will remember this tomorrow, don't worry about it." He wasn’t there to look mildly disappointed when Drakka, inevitably, said no.

Drakka leaned against the wall, trying not to cry.

Pallain never could make her dance to anything but the old love song,  _ Until Death Do Us Part _ , which they had taken their vow to each other out of.

The familiar chords echoed through the hall, a warbling voice singing, "When we met at dawn, you outshone her beauty..."

Drakka's breath caught in her chest, the dam in her throat finally breaking. She caught Altha's eye, motioned to the door, and ran.

She ran into the snow, tears streaking down her face, cold air freezing in her lungs.

She ran and ran and ran until she found herself standing in the exact spot she had met Pallain.

_ "My mam says you're a witch." _

_ Drakka looked up from the flowers she was picking to see a plump, blond-haired boy with sky-blue eyes standing there, absently scratching his arm. "I'm not a witch." _

_ The boy plopped down beside her, plucking grass in his fingers. "Are you sure? It'd be pretty cool if you were a witch." _

_ Drakka frowned. "Witches don't exist." _

_ Chubby fingers stopped toying with the grass, the boy's eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "Oh. Why?" _

_ "I don't know." _

_ They sat there for a long time, enjoying the other's company. _

_ When Pallain's mother called him back for dinner, the boy jumped to his feet. "Can we play here again tomorrow?" _

_ "No, I'm not coming here tomorrow." _

_ The boy had paused, pouting as he thought, before his face lit up with an idea. "Well, tell me where you'll be tomorrow and I'll meet you there!" _

_ Drakka, who knew from experience exactly how cruel children could be, hesitated. Then this sunshine-boy smiled and she knew she would do anything for him. _

_ "I'm Drakka." _

_ "Pallain. Are we friends?" _

_ "Meet me here tomorrow morning and we'll find out." _

_ "You just said you weren't coming here tomorrow!" _

_ "I changed my mind. Witches can do that, after all." _

That little clearing in the woods was where Drakka and Pallain became Drakka-and-Pallain, two halves of the same whole, inseparable. 

That little clearing in the woods was where Drakka-and-Pallain went to solve their problems, to talk, to nap, to be with someone who understood them even when they didn't understand themselves.

That little clearing in the woods was where Pallain had fallen to his knees and told Drakka that he was broken for not liking girls. 

That little clearing in the woods was where Drakka had held him and told him she did, so they balanced each other out.

That little clearing in the woods was where Drakka and Pallain had cut their palms open and bound themselves to each other with their lifeblood.

That little clearing in the woods was where Drakka and Pallain had first vowed to stay together until death did them part.

And it was death that parted them, but not the death they expected. Pallain's father died almost fifteen years ago when one of the horses he was working with kicked him in the temple. Altha couldn't save him, Drakka didn't know how, and Anna, pregnant with her final child, blamed both of them.

Pallain's older brother inherited the farm, Pallain's older sister charmed a merchant and ran off with him, and every other sibling was female, leaving Pallain to find his own way. Pallain's uncle on his father's side forged jewelry in the Capitol. Anna, through a book's worth of letters, secured an apprenticeship for Pallain to start in the fall.

Drakka remembered how angry Pallain was, how the sky in his eyes had turned to jagged ice.

Drakka pulled the stone from the leather band around her forehead, clutched it to her chest, and sunk to her knees. The snow soaked through her leggings, cold and wet, just like her tears. She tilted her head back, gazing into the distant heavens. "Raphael... Altha says you know and treasure the name of each one of your healers, that you will guide us, come to our aid when we need you. I need you, please, I need someone,  _ anyone, _ please, I-" Her voice cut off in a sob.

The thing about praying to celestial entities is that one must be very specific in who one prays to the  _ entire  _ time. This is for the same reason one must not hit  _ reply all  _ in a rude email, not that any of these characters have email. When one calls to an entity by name, only that entity will hear the call. When one isn't specific, all celestial  _ and  _ infernal beings plus the one being that's both but neither hear it.

Drakka knows this rule and doesn't know that she's broken it. While Raphael certainly heard her prayer, they are not intent upon answering it as they are very busy looking for a very specific child. In all actuality, all of the celestial beings are content to ignore yet another prayer and all of the infernal beings know the utterer of the prayer cannot be tempted to Hell just yet. The being that is both but neither... well, they have different opinions. 

The fact of the matter is that the being that is both but neither has a personal investment in this particular mortal: they are her guardian not-angel. While most angels shrug off this aspect of their nature, this specific being is not an angel and is curious about their ward, so appear to their charge. If their charge happens to think that they are Raphael, then so be it.

"Peace, my child, I am here," they said, keeping their voice calm and gentle.

Drakka looked up. "Raphael?"

The being that is both but neither smiled beatifically and lied through their teeth. "Yes."

Drakka, without the slightest bit of hesitation, grabbed onto the being and sobbed.

The young herbmistress cried herself to sleep right there on the angel's shoulders. The being that is both but neither had smiled, picked the young girl up, and carried her to her bed, gently sat her down and pulled the blanket over her. They pressed a soft kiss to Drakka's brow, removing the memories of their visit. Drakka couldn't remember this, it wasn't time yet and it wouldn't be for years to come.

The being's appearance turned to that of a nondescript man in gray clothes, someone who eyes would slide past, and the angel walked into the great hall. They caught Altha's attention by a small puff of grace, the older woman abandoning the other townspeople to talk with the being, following them out into the cold night without hesitation.

Altha offered a hand in greeting, the being taking it, amusement in their eyes. Altha had a suspicious look on her face. "I didn't think I'd be seeing you so soon."

The angel winced and attempted to skirt around the topic. "You've done well with the girl, Altha, better than her mother could have."

The Herbmistress didn't chase the being's trail. She crossed her arms and lifted a dark brow. "Anyone could have done better than that creature. Why are you here, Bais?"

"She prayed for Raphael to come to her, prayed for guidance."

Altha raised an eyebrow. "And you came in their stead?"

"Raphael hasn't answered the call of a terrestrial being since the beginning, and we both know what they would do if confronted with Drakka."

"She deserves to know."

"Not yet. It's not time yet."

Altha rolled her eyes and slammed the angel into the snow-covered wall. "Listen here, Bais, I have raised that girl for sixteen years. I changed her beddings, taught her how to read, taught her kindness and peace. That was me, not you. She might not be my daughter in blood, but she  _ is _ my daughter. You are not going to swan in at the last moment and take her from me just so you can get back in Heaven's favor. You weren't there, you were never there. I did this, all of this, alone, without you. I forsook my oath for that girl, left my life for that girl, and where were you? Where were you, Bais?"

Bais flipped them around, careful not to be too harsh lest he injures the mortal woman. "You think I wanted to be gone? Do you think I willingly left her behind? She is everything to me, more than you or any other mortal could understand. I stayed away for her safety, so Heaven couldn't find her, so she could have a chance to be normal."

Gold flashed in the Herbmistress’s eyes."Cut the shit,  _ angel _ ,” She snarled, her voice gone low with rage. “You're a coward, you always have been, and you always will be." 

Bais had to fight their power as it surged within them. "I gave up everything to keep her safe."

Altha bared her teeth, angrier than she had been in years. "So did I."

Bais cocked their head, grace flickering in their eyes. "My everything is a lot more permanent than yours. Heaven will welcome you in the end."

There it was. The crux of the matter, the point of contention between the two conspirers. One lost everything for one mortal lifetime, but would still be welcome into the Ӕternal paradise. The other, though they were not one of Heaven, they had been one of Heaven's allies, before It happened. Now, Bais was indeed the being that is both but neither. They would never lower themselves to Hell's standards and would always challenge Heaven's, and Heaven kept long grudges. 

A better person would have sympathized with Bais, but Altha wasn't a better person. She was a mother who would die protecting her child. "You made your choice, now get over yourself and live with it." Altha shoved the angel's arms away and walked back to the hall. "We're done here, Bais." The Herbmistress disappeared back into the warmth and light of the Yule festivities, leaving the not-angel standing in the snow, wondering where they had gone wrong.

The answer would remain unknown for a very, very, long time.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can blame this chapter for me not updating in a long while.

_ My dearest love,  _

_ Thank you for the Yule gifts, they're quite lovely. I've sent a couple things for you, they're late, but since I can't teleport, it will have to do. That apothecary is so overpriced! How are people supposed to get their medicines without selling their souls? That's extortion. Actual extortion.  _

_ I'll ask Altha about visiting. I don't think you should get your hopes up, but we'll see. She'll insist on a long list of details, so be prepared for a personal letter. A very grumpy personal letter. Your uncle will probably get one, too, though it might be slightly more polite. _

_ So. You found a potential human. I'm impressed. I was beginning to think you didn't have the balls and you were just going to become a monk instead of a goldsmith. I did send the oil, but I couldn't figure out how to send luck. I'll work it out, though. I don't think Herbmistresses are particularly lucky, Altha has never said anything about it. Maybe that's something they teach you right before you scratch the Junior off your credentials. Who knows. _

_ I am proud of you, though, and I wish you luck with all of your romantic endeavors. I also wish for all the details, no matter how specific. Don't you dare avoid that poor boy until he leaves, I know how you are. _

_ For your information, Trader Hazer is an excellent nickname that I am quite proud of earning. _

_ Yule was weird without you this year. I left the feast when they played our song. I just couldn't take it anymore. I'm writing this the morning after, I must have drunk too much wine last night because I don't remember anything after leaving.  _

_ Best of luck with this human. _

_ With love,  _

_ Drakka _

Pallain let the letter fall from his fingertips, a small, bitter smile creeping over his face.

Pallain's own Yule had been... quiet. Gwyllyth hosted an extravagant part every year, but Pallain couldn't work up the will to go, overcome with homesickness. Stephan and Elias had filtered in, worried about him, but he'd just smiled and said, "Go have fun." The couple was skeptical, but they left him alone. 

He, usually, would have gone to temple services, but seeing as he had gotten thrown out of the closest temple, that wasn't an option.

The priest had cornered him after the service, kindly asking if Pallain was new in town. The conversation had gone well until the priest asked Pallain where he was from.

_ "Where are you from?" _

_ "Nahwær, it's about a week and a half-" The priest wasn't listening. The older man was staring at Pallain, an odd expression on his face. "What?" _

_ "Are there women by the name of Altha and Anna there?" _

_ Pallain felt his hairs stand on end, suddenly nervous. How did this priest know that? "Yes." _

_ The priest nodded, pursing his lips. "I knew them, back when we were both studying. Do they still burn the midnight oil with noon's candle?" _

_ "What? I don't think I understand, why would they-" _

_ The priest nodded, a quick, sharp jerk of his head. "Then it's time for you to go, young man, off with you, tonight is a night to celebrate!" The priest dragged Pallain by his arm to a side door. "It was nice to meet you, but I don't think you should come back, young man," the priest said before closing and locking the door.  _

_ Pallain stood gaping at the door, confused as to what just happened. "What in the Hell just happened?" _

Pallain read through the letter again.  _ Don't you dare avoid that poor boy until he leaves. _ So far, that has been precisely what Pallain has done. Three weeks of Stephan "accidentally" tripping Pallain every time they went past the other boy, having Pallain run errands to and from the traders, and generally trying to get Pallain to get over himself.

Stephan had failed.

Pallain didn't even know the other boy's name.  _ Don't you dare avoid that poor boy until he leaves. _ He had a week to change his habits, a week and a half before Drakka found out about his cowardice, or-

Well. It was only midday. Pallain could go seek out the boy right now and be able to tell Drakka that he hadn't avoided the boy until the traders left.

Pallain ran to Stephan's room, the letter gripped in his hand. "Stephan!"

The dark-haired boy opened his door and poked his head out with a petulant, "What?"

Pallain held up the letter. "I need to find him and talk to him before tomorrow or she's going to kill me, please, you've gotta-"

Stephan rolled his eyes and yanked Pallain inside the room, sending the blond stumbling right onto who he thought was Elias and knocking both of them down on the bed.

"Stephan, you can't just throw people," Elias exclaimed from _ across the room _ . Pallain looked up from the floor to see Him. The boy Pallain had been avoiding for three weeks. And Pallain was on him.

"Shit, I'm so sorry, I'm usually not so clumsy, I swear."

The other boy laughed and helped Pallain scramble away. "It's fine, it's fine, most people usually buy my dinner first before they pin me down, though."

Pallain squeaked and turned bright red, stammering as he tried to come up with a response that wasn't, "Let's go to dinner right now."

Luckily, Elias stepped in to save him. "Pallain is shy, you just scared him."

Pallain desperately shook his head. "I am not shy, most people don't... lead with that!"

The other boy frowned. "Is this why you've avoided me for three weeks? I've been trying to talk, you know."

Pallain made a different squeaking noise and buried his head in his hands, which made the other three boys laugh themselves silly.

When the blond was finally recovered enough to actually speak, he did exactly what his mother told him to do when he met someone: he stuck his hand out and said, "I'm Pallain, it's nice to meet you."

"Tendai. Likewise." 

The pair shook, Stephan and Elias standing back with amused smirks. 

"Look at our kid," Stephan whispered, wrapping an arm around his lover, "All grown up and getting himself a man."

"We had barely anything to do with this, Stephan. That's Drakka's letter in his pocket."

"Shh. We're matchmaking."

"Sure, love. We're matchmaking."

Tendai and Pallain were excitedly discussing the differences in dirt, which baffled both of the older boys. "They're talking about dirt," Elias muttered in Stephan's ear.

Stephan shrugged. "If plants can grow from dirt, love can too?"

Elias playfully shoved Stephan away. "Really?"

Tendai and Pallain interrupted their discussion over dirt to stare at the couple. "Your dads are fighting," Tendai whispered to Pallain.

The blond's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "They're not my dads?"

Tendai rolled his eyes. "They totally adopted you. They're your dads."

"Alright, fine. Do we stop them?"

"Nah, they're having fun," the golden-skinned boy said as he leaned back. "Couples do this all the time. It's like socially appropriate fore-play."

Pallain squeaked again. "Wha- you- you can't just... say something like that!"

Stephan and Elias had managed to only hear the end of Tendai's statement, which caused Stephan to make a smug face and gently elbow Elias. "He's not wrong, Pallain."

Elias smacked Stephan on the back of the head. "Stephan! Behave!"

"Ow! Fine!" The couple went back to cheerful bickering, plopping themselves down on the floor with their backs to the world.

Tendai poked Pallain in the shoulder. "So. Why did you avoid me?"

The blond froze as a thousand excuses ran through his head. "I, um, I lied when I said I'm not shy. I'm very shy." What this actually means is, "You're gorgeous and I have a massive crush on you. Please, let me take you to dinner."

Tendai seemed to believe the other boy and laughed. "Scared I was going to make fun of you for running into me that first day?"

Pallain was scared of that, so maybe he only told a half-truth. "Yeah... You're not, are you?"

"Nah." Tendai paused and thought for a moment. "I mean, I was... until I noticed that you tripped over a lot and came to the conclusion that you were clumsy. Then I figured you'd be self-conscious over it."

Tendai is correct. Pallain is highly embarrassed over how many times he's tripped in the past week and a half. "Thanks."

"No problem. Wanna get out of here?"

Pallain thought of what Drakka would do, realized he couldn't do that, and said, "Sure." 

Tendai's smile lit up the room, stretching across his face in a way that reminded Pallain of the sun coming out from behind the clouds, melting away the snow and signaling winter had come to an end. The hazel-eyed boy grabbed Pallain's hand and stood, dragging the blond out of the room. "These two were telling me about the Glass Gardens. Have you seen them?"

Stephan and Elias had taken Pallain there the last time they'd all had a day off. "Only once." 

"Then let's go!"

Pallain allowed himself to be dragged through the city by the gorgeous man, not that he could have said no, even if he wanted to. Tendai, being from the Southwest, had never seen snow before he joined the traders.

The white flakes caught in his hair and his eyelashes, on his scarf and shoulders. Pallain couldn't look away if he tried. 

Tendai reached up and let a snowflake fall in his palm. "Are your winters always like this?"

"Yeah."

"Only the mountain cities get snow. Where I grew up... there would be no rain for months and then we'd be going everywhere with boats."

Pallain tried to imagine riding in a boat to go anywhere and couldn't. "Is it like a sled?"

Tendai stopped and turned around. "I've never ridden in a sled." Through mutual understanding only possible of two teenagers lacking a single brain cell to split between them, Tendai flipped them around so Pallain was leading. "Find us a sled, Pallain."

Pallain took a few steps forward then stopped. "Where am I supposed to find a sled?"

"I don't know, just find one."

Unbeknownst to the boys, a being in gray robes was watching them, smiling slightly at their other charge and... the other boy. 

Seventeen years, they'd been watching. Seventeen years of watching one charge become two. Bais sighed, missing the early days when this world had a population of about thirty-four beings and everything had been so much easier. 

_ It had just been the two of them in the beginning, the gray being and the white being, an incomplete trio. The gray being swirled anxiously beside the white being. "What do you mean, you made more?" _

_ "Exactly what I said. Look at all the variety!" _

_ "The angels and the demons weren't enough for you?" _

_ "I thought with the whole revolution thing, they could use a little distraction from each other. And just one intelligent species wasn't going to do it." _

_ "Mm. I suppose I'm going to have to balance all of this out? Right after I finally got done with the humans? After you kicked them out of- what was it again?" _

_ "A garden." _

_ "Yes. Right after you kicked them out of the garden. What are the new ones called?" _

_ "Dragons. I'm rather fond of them." _

_ "They're pangolins with wings, sibling." _

_ "That's- that's not even close to accurate!" _

_ "Tell me about the dragons, and I'll tell you about my idea. You're sticking with this whole eight-element thing, right?" _

_ "That was the plan." _

Maybe it was kind of their fault that the world was so complicated, after all, but they had no idea this would happen.

_ This time it was the white being who was anxious, the gray being was weaving a soul into existence. "They keep fighting." _

_ The gray being shifted their awareness to their sibling. "Who keeps fighting?" _

_ "All of them. They were supposed to unite and live in harmony." _

_ "I'm not surprised." _

_ "What are we going to do? They're going to destroy each other!" _

_ "What if... we gave them one of  _ all _ the elements, who could bind them together through their similarities?" _

_ "That could work." _

_ "What species?" _

_ "Dragon. Definitely dragon. And definitely female, we need-" _

_ "Maternal instincts." _

_ "Exactly." _

Both Great Plans had failed. Admittedly, the First Great Plan was a work in progress, and it was progressing, but the Second Great Plan went to shit in less than five centuries. The dragon's name was Tamura, and she was perfect for the job. She ruled with peace and love for five centuries and then she fell in love. With a mortal human named Jonathan. The two beings bemusedly granted the dragon her wish for a human form, allowing her to couple with her human.

Then Jonathan was murdered.

And everything went to shit.

Tamura blamed the two beings, saying that the two beings had betrayed her, turned her back on Heaven and Hell, and unleashed a reign of terror in her search for the murderers. 

Both beings were at a loss of what to do when a miracle happened: Tamura laid an egg. And not just any egg, but a fertilized egg.

_ The egg sat between the two beings, who had compressed themselves down to a physical, almost human form. The gray one frowned and said, "This should not be possible." _

_ "Well, it clearly is." _

_ "Should we destroy it? _

_ "No, I don't think so. I think... I think the child will be the key to fixing this." _

_ "What do you mean?" _

_ "Think, sibling. The child will be naturally born of love and have, presumably, the power of their mother." _

_ "They could do what Tamura was supposed to do." _

_ "Exactly." _

_ "What if history repeats itself?" _

_ "We'll figure it out." _

The child had looked almost exactly like their father, human in every way, except for their eyes. They had their mother's eyes. The gray being gently changed the child's composition until the slit pupils became round, unaware of the magnitude of what they just did.

The light being had smiled and cooed at the infant, beamed as they squirmed, little hands grasping for something.

_ "We can't leave them with their mother." _

_ "I know. I found two human women working with the Revolt to take them away." _

_ "Where?" _

_ "Nahwær." _


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our Father who art in Heaven, spill thine tea into our thirsting hearts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it has been a very long time since I've posted, I am aware. COVID messed with... well, a lot, and it was bad, but better late than never, right?

In the beginning, I created the heavens and the earth. I held them both in my not-really-hands-but-your-language-doesn't-have-the-means-to-describe-it-so-we'll-call-them-hands-for-now, and I wasn't satisfied. So I said, "Let there be light!" And there was, and it was… better, but it still wasn't right. 

A voice from my not-left-because-directions-didn’t-exist-yet said, "Split the light from the darkness. That'll balance it, and it'll be better."

_ Balance _ . That's what was missing.  _ Balance _ . "Thank you," I murmured as I did what the voice suggested.

I felt them drift closer, peering over my not-shoulder. "It's no problem. Do you know what's going on here? I kind of just… existed, and here you were, doing whatever it is you're doing."

I know everything; I am omnipresent. This other being… "I do know what's going on here. I'm creating existence."

The other being made an agreeable noise. "That's fun, really fun. Do you have a name? I don't have a name."

I turned and allowed myself to look at this other being who sprang into existence beside me. "I Am."

The other being pulled a face. "You are what?"

"That's my name." I didn't understand what was wrong with I Am. Names had yet to be so important.

"I Am is not a name."

"Yes, it is."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it-"

"I'm going to call you God."

I opened my mouth to say,  _ no _ ,  _ it's I Am, why would you change that _ , but I realized I quite liked God. "Vey well, then. I shall call you…" I didn't know what to call the other being.  _ Balance _ . They had brought balance… "Bais."

Bais nodded their head. "I like that. It suits me."

"It's your name, of course, it does."

"I Am didn't suit you at all."

"Yes, it did."

"No, it didn't."

"Yes, it- I am not doing this again!"

Bais shrugged their not-shoulders. "Suit yourself. Want any help with this whole creating existence thing?"

I realized I did. "If you wouldn't mind." I offered what I had in my not-hands to Bais. They extended their own not-hands, and, together, we held the beginning of the universe.

Bais quickly grew bored with holding the baby universe. "So, what's next?"

"We have to name the light and the dark." 

Bais peered at what we held, seemingly deep in thought. “Lighty-stuff and not-lighty-stuff.”

"I was thinking day and night, but that works too."

Bais met my not-eyes. "No. Night and day. I like that."

So the nighttime and the daytime was created. 

Bais and I crafted a planet together, started the beginnings of a universe, and, for lack of a better word, became  _ lonely _ .

That's when I made the angels. Bais said that, eventually, they would need a balancing force, just like everything else would.  _ For all that is, all that is not must be _ . I didn't tell them what would happen to some of my angels, how they would Fall.

I wasn't ready to lose them yet. I wasn't ready when I did.

That was a lonely day.

Heaven felt… emptier, quieter. A good portion of it had just plummetted from Grace, so it made sense, but still… Still. 

Everything was so still.

Bais and I gave the angels some more creative control, hoping to keep them occupied enough with creating and dreaming to mourn their fallen compatriots and follow them downward.

Bais and I moved onto the humans.

At this point, Bais and I is better phrased as Bais-and-I, we… an incomplete trinity, perhaps. 

I'm getting off track.

Where was I… where was- Oh! Life has plot points. I put them there, Bais approved them, and everyone else tried to pretend they had any idea of what was going on. 

It's a bit like the fable we all know as the Emperor's New Clothes (not the Emperor's New Groove, that's completely different, this story has significantly more llamas). This particular group of characters won't encounter that particular fable because this reality never spawns that tale, but they will have a similar story.

I'm getting off track.

When I made this dimension, this reality, I made an outline on it with things like:

  * 273- Samael will fall from Heaven and start the whole _Hell_ thing (and change their name to Lucifer because they're in their Angsty Phase)
  * 364-The humans will be exiled from the Garden (and my entire system gets screwed over)



Some points have subpoints, for example:

  * 1,451- hit the reset button on earth (because your wayward angel corrupted your creations, and then they fucked everything over), introduce the Elemental races
    * Let the Archangels design these. They're getting stir-crazy… well, stir-crazier. Why did we approve the cassowary? And what even is a giraffe?



If you are confused as to who's handwriting is who's, Bais is the one who swears and writes sarcastic notes in The Plan. Nothing I've tried has gotten them to stop. If anything, I made it worse.

The Plan is important. Sometime between The Beginning and the angels, Bais and I wrote it all out, threw ideas at each other like a couple of authors over drinks- though drinks didn't exist back then- and eventually, we have this entire universe layed out in front of us, except for what I didn’t tell them.

They were so angry, after.

After The Fall, Bais came to me and asked, "What if we made  _ more _ ? Tried out different paths. One Heaven and one Hell, of course, let's not get too far ahead of ourselves, but..." Bais gestured outward. "We're only populating this one little planet. What if they get lonely?"

_ What if they feel like we felt, back then, when it was just us? _

So then we plotted out billions of other universes and started nudging them into being. This will be important thousands of thousands of thousands of years later, I assure you, but for now… well, enjoy that little nugget of existential crisis.

I'm getting off track.

The Plan is flexible, of course. I gave my creations free will; it's their right to choose… just some of their choices will lead to the same thing. Plot points, remember? 

It's not as simple as turning left or right, the paths weave around each other, tangle and detangle, and sometimes, if you're not careful, you'll switch paths, and you won't realize where you are until it's too late. The road to Hell is paved with good intentions and squirrels who couldn't make a decision, though those did come later.

Adam and Eve, and Shaf and Inshoff, the first dragons, were always going to eat the apple. It didn't matter where I put the tree; they would find the apple and eat it eventually. Even if I put it far away in the stars, they'd find it. I thought about doing that, actually, putting the tree far, far away, and letting them find it further off in the future, but when it came down to it... well, you all know what I chose. You're all here because of that choice.

The newly-moralized were always going to go too far with their "new-found" free-will; no amount of warning could stop them. And, believe me, we all tried many,  _ many _ , times. I think the archangels all talked themselves hoarse trying, the seraphs didn't sing for a  _ year _ afterward and  _ do not get me started on the cherubs _ . The poor dears were heartbroken. The rest of Heaven wasn't much better. I remember finding the remaining Virtues huddled around each other, Patience looking me in the eye and asking, "Is this our fault?" I told them no, and I didn't lie. The Virtues didn't fail humanity; none of my angels did. 

_ This was meant to happen. This is part of The Plan _ . _ If anyone failed them, I did. _ But I didn't say that. 

In other worlds, such as yours, where I have humans as the sole intelligent species, I used a flood. Here, in this one, I had to do something different. 

I buried them.

I buried them under stars and earth, and I told myself  _ never again, I will find a different way before I think of doing something like this again _ . 

Bais and I held each other as much as two amorphous beings could hold something as the meteors hurled down, as the tectonic plates broke and moved.

That was an awful day.

Like with the other worlds, we saved one family of humans and dragons, since there was only one group of them. The rainbow grew and dazzled and almost,  _ almost _ , made a smile come to my face. But I knew what it meant, that the promise wasn't  _ never again _ but  _ never again like this. _

Bais and I changed some things after that. The humans stayed mostly the same, except we gave them the capacity to manipulate the world around them if they choose to learn. Choosing is very important. Sometimes, I wish I had made choosing a little less important.

I'm getting off track.

I believe in the previous chapter, Bais had a flashback to this point and talked about eight elements?

Allow me to explain.

There is a series in your world called  _ Avatar: The Last Airbender _ ? This world has a similar concept if you squint and tilt your head the right way.

The cartoon series had four elements. This world has eight: fire, air, water, and earth make up the Tangible Elements. Dark, light, magic, and nature make up the Intangible Elements. The humans, depending on where they are from, have the ability and the choice to learn how to work with one of these elements. 

The dragons are similar in this aspect. And they are  _ not _ pangolins with wings, despite what Bais will tell you. Pangolins are dragons without wings. And intelligence. And a soul. And a-

I'm getting off track.

Then there are the Elemental Races. After the burial, Bais and I did a little performance assessment and changed the dragons' design. The one singular group of relatively flexible dragons became eight groups that each lived in a habitat similar to their element. For example, the fire dragons lived in the desert, the water dragons lived in the ocean, the air dragons live in the eastern mountains, so on and so forth. Their bodies adapted to survive in these specific environments, and they became the Eight Draconic Tribes.

Eight is a significant number in this world. So is two, and three. Four… not so much, five is neutral, no one but Bais and I know what's going on with six and seven is… not bad. Numbers are important. Never forget 42, but also remember 27. 64 is good and so is-

Would you look at that?

I got off track.

Again.

I've kept you waiting long enough for the information on the Elemental Races. They are meant to be the  _ in-between _ , not quite human, but not a dragon either. They are humanoid-ish in shape, I suppose, though some of them have wings or tails or horns. One of them, the  _ Terkin _ , has four-jointed fingers. I'm not sure  _ why _ that is the case, but my Archangels (mainly Raphael and Gabriel, but none of the rest of them protested or disagreed) insisted it was necessary, and I let them do it. 

The Archangels named the Elemental Races of the Tangible Elements: the Fire Fae, the Air Nymphs, the Water Sprites, and the Rock Elves. Not sure where that last one came from, considering elves, in other worlds, are thought to be willowy, lithe beings, and these… are not. At all. They're quite solid, actually. I'd say closer to dwarves, but they're tall, so I really have nothing to compare them to.

I'm getting off track.

My Archangels named the Elemental Races of the Intangible Elements: the  _ Malakin _ , or the Night People, the  _ Kinduji _ , or the People of the Day, the  _ Terkin _ , or the Magic People, and the  _ Leydrin _ , the Guardians of the Forest. 

I was, and am, so proud of them, my Archangels, for what they had created. I wished Sam- Lucifer could have been there to do so with them, but my wayward child made their choice, and so did I.

The Tribes, the Races, and the humans quickly multiplied and figured out their new dynamics, and there was relative peace for a long time. There's a map in the next chapter that will help with this. If the desert raised concerns, questions, or just plain out laughter, that was Gabriel's doing. I found it quite funny as well. 

I got off track again.

The peace didn't last long, because while this lovely little unnamed island was existing in peace and harmony, the rest of the world was freaking out. My wayward children had sent themselves out into the world and were trying to harm the very thing I asked them to love.

And so War spreads, settling in, bone-deep and  _ hungry, _ and Bais and I watch then destroy each other. Over.

And over.

And over.

And over and over and over and over  _ and over and over and over and over  _ again.

So we tried to fix it.

Bais told you all how that went, didn't they? I'll give you the short version:

Never doubt a mortal being's ability to love, and always prepare for what they will do when they lose that love. 

But Bais and I did doubt that love, we thought that love, all of  _ her  _ love, was Good. We watched as they fell in love, gave our blessing even, only to watch everything they had built come crashing down in flames.

You all burn hot and quick, a brief spark that will spark thousands of wildfires, and I will never understand how Sa- Lucifer could have forsaken all of you.

Sometimes I long for the beginning, when it was just my sibling and me in eternal nothingness, and we hadn't imposed rules like physics and death. Then I look out into the world, and I see two lovers holding hands and exchanging vows, or someone giving their change to someone in need, and I remember,  _ this is why I made them.  _

I got off track. For the being that planned the universes, I do that a lot, don't I?

See. There I went again.

On life went, and no amount of longing would bring that time nor Tamura's love, until I found myself staring at an egg and thinking,  _ "Now how and when did that happen? This is not supposed to be there" _ .

And suddenly, there was hope.

A lyric from a fantastic song once said,  _ Though hope is frail, it's hard to kill _ . But this... hope was dead, utterly and truly dead, for those who knew what to look for, and here is this baby who wasn't supposed to exist, crying right in front of me.

Drakka was so tiny, when she hatched, this fragile, crying thing, so full of potential. Bais had to pry them out of my hands.

We gave her to a healer and her friend, her very pregnant friend, and said, "Teach her love and teach her loss, teach her how to live, teach her how to  _ be human. _ "

We watched them go in silence, wondering if we were finally doing the right thing.

Some will call this a Chosen One story, and that's fine. But the only people who ever chose this child was a mortal healer and Pallain. For those of you who wish to know what this actually is, look no farther. This is plan Z53, a shot in the dark, Bais and I looking at each other and going, "Well, it can't get any worse," which you would think, as one omniscient and semi-omniscient being, we would know better, but being an omniscient and semi-omniscient being, we can occasionally be a little arrogant.

I got off track.

I'm interested to see what path Pallain chooses. Frankly, I'm curious to see their lives play out in a way I haven't been for a very, very long time. The two of them are going to change the world, for the better or worse is ultimately up to them, but I do sincerely hope they choose the right path.

Bais and I watched Drakka, and by extension, the healer and the no-longer-so-pregnant... well, with that child at least, she had others, that's not the point, and Pallain all learn and love and grow. I'd like to pretend that I wasn't anxiously watching for any signs of what happened by Tamura, but I don't make a habit of lying. 

I will, however, admit that watching Bais cackle over the boy and girl causing chaos by merely being friends has been fun. They've never quite forgiven themselves for suggesting Tamura, but I do believe they're going to once this over. I hope they do, for their sake. 

We thought the pair of them might fall in love as Tamura and Jonathan did, but they didn't. Instead, pardon my language, the little shits formed a blood pact and bound their souls together. 

They got worse after that, I had to directly interfere a few times to keep them from getting into too much trouble. Bais only did the one time, but their guilt is a powerful thing. I don't blame them for it.

So that brings us to now, when the little hatchling and her very best friend are closer to grown-up than not. As my dear Bais would say,

_ Shit's about to go down. _

Because Tamura finally realized that not only did her egg hatch successfully, but Bais and I took her offspring and then hid said offspring away. 

Tamura's plan? Acquire her offspring. Unlock said offspring's true power. Kill the offspring to bring Jonathan back.

Jonathan isn't coming back, not like he was, not like  _ that _ . If he comes back, he'll be a half-formed shade, some malcontent thing that will only corrupt Tamura further.

I would say Bais and I can't let that happen… but plans change, and there are choices yet to be made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one:  
> Absolutely no one:  
> God: *pulls down sunglasses*  
> God: Gurrrrll, have I got something to tell you!  
> Everyone: Please no  
> God: *ignores them* ARE YOU READY FOR THE TEA?!  
> Everyone: *sobbing*
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please take care of yourself and others!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, everyone wanted to spill some tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is very, very, short, but I got chapter seven done in like... March? April? And didn't know where to go or have the will to go anywhere until the beginning of August, so this is my getting back into the groove chapter.

Two women, old friends, one with the flaxen hair native to the land, the other with the golden skin of the Great Forest, sat drinking tea, listening to the sounds of laughing children outside the house.

"I can't let her go," the golden-skinned woman murmured. "Not now."

"She will die here."

"We'll all die here, Ana."

Ana shook her head, placing her palm down on the table. "No, Altha. Her spirit will die here. They bound their souls together."

"I am well aware of that, " Altha said. "But if I let her go, the Queen's guard-"

"Has no idea what she looks like."

"-Is on the lookout for anyone, 'of strange and striking appearance.’"

Ana frowned. "In this land?"

"Ana, she radiates power to those who know how to sense it. If she goes to a city of that size-"

The pale-haired woman leaned across the table to take her friend's hand. "Altha, I understand what you're saying, but she cannot stay here. It's killing her."

The dark-haired woman hung her head. "I can't let her go to him, Ana. I could send her anywhere else, but not there."

"Then let her go somewhere, take her to visit an old friend, go visit your family in the forest."

"And leave you all without my protection?"

"I am more than capable of doing so in your absence."

Except Ana wasn't, not anymore, and they both knew it. "No, you're not. Not after you've passed your power down to your children."

"Altha-"

"She stays here, Ana. We both do."

Ana let go of her friend's hand and stood up, her face carefully neutral. "So that's settled. You've become a coward who will watch this entire land die because the life of one girl is worth more than-"

Gold twined around Altha's fingertips. "Watch how you speak. You don't understand-"

"I sent my son to the city, as far away from  _ her  _ as possible, so he'd be safe. I will  _ never _ see him again, Altha. I  _ understand _ why you don't want to, I do. I don't want her anywhere near my boy, but they bound their souls together. They're halves of a whole. If you had told me sooner-"

Altha shot to her feet, planting her hands on the table, her teeth flashing as she spoke. "You have always hated her for what she is! She can't help her parentage, Ana, none of us can. If I had told you about the soul-bond, you would have sent Pallain even further away-"

"No, I wouldn't have," Ana said softly. "I would have found a way for him to stay. You forget that we were stupid kids once, that we walked this same path. I know the pain of that separation, I  _ lived _ it. That's why you can't keep them apart, Altha. Remember what it did to us?"

The dark-haired woman winced. "I do."

"I don't like Drakka because her existence threatens the life of my son, but if they cannot live without each other, we can't make them live without each other." Ana cautiously walked around the table to wrap her friend in a hug. "Let her go for the summer. I'll write my brother-in-law, she can stay with him."

"What if they find her?"

Ana pulled back, the crow's feet around her eyes deepening with her grin. "Then we remind them about the witches of  _ Mynydd Hollt _ ."

"The retired witch and the converted Herbmistress?"

"You say that like you don't remember the blood curse I taught you thirty years ago."

"I say that like you've passed down most of your power and I gave up almost half of mine when I came here."

Ana sobered, the grin on her face slowly deepening into a frown. "When did we become old?"

"When the weight of the world settled down on our shoulders?”

“Mm. So when will she leave?”

“Ana-”

Ana took her ex-lover’s face in her hands. “She can’t stay here. Even if she doesn’t go to him, she can’t stay here.” The blonde kissed the brunette’s forehead. “It’ll be fine.”

… 

_ My dearest love, _

_ Altha isn’t letting me come to see you, but she is sending me to the Great Forest to meet some of her relatives. I won’t be able to write for the journey there or back, but I might while I’m there… She’s scared of something, and your mother keeps looking at me with pity.  _

_ I wish I was coming to you, but I’ll take what I can get. I don’t have much time to write, but know that, one way or another, I will see you before my Ceremony. _

_ Something weird is going on, darling, keep your eyes open. _

_ All of my love, _

_ Drakka _


End file.
